Monday, March 11, 2013

"The Truth Will Out"

I am aware that more and more Americans are traveling to
distant countries on business, often remaining there for extended periods of
time.I am equally aware that some of
these distant countries are under the control of less than democratic regimes,
and that many, if not all, less than
democratic regimes, by their very natures, are infused with an insidious culture
of suspicion.Especially about
foreigners.

(I am trying to be careful in my wording, lest those
tendrils of suspicion reach out and engulf innocents, not the least of whom
being…well, perhaps it’s best not to mention any names.One can never be certain who is scrutinizing
these missives.)

So…

You are an American businessman, toiling in a semi (or more)
police-state environment.You are
invited in for “questioning.”Entirely
uninterested in espionage, you are precisely who you seem to be – a public
citizen traveling for your company.A
public citizen, as it turns out, who is scrupulously committed to the truth,
wherever it may lead.This is
fortuitous, as it coincides with the single demand of the Interrogator, which
is:

“We want the truth.”

“That’s perfect. Everyone knows I am nothing if not
truthful.You want the truth? You have
come to the right man.”

“Go on.”

“Let the chips fall where they may.Here it is:

“I really think the Lakers
are going to miss the playoffs.”

“That’s not what we want to hear.”

“Tell me about it,
they’re breaking my heart!I’m not
saying they’re awful, or anything, they can still beat the sub-.500 teams – the
Sacramentos and the Orlandos of the league – but the Spurs or the Heat, even
the Clippers – are you kidding
me?There’s no way.They’re too good and too fast.

“Do you remember what it was like at the beginning of the
season?People – and I mean experts, not
just yahoos calling in on the radio – those experts were predicting seventy
wins or more this season.But Kobe, even
with his flashes, and Nash for sure, are no longer in their prime.Dwight’s still recovering from back surgery,
and he seems uncomfortable in L.A.

“It’s a bitter pill to swallow, especially in the year when we
lose Mr. Buss.But maybe it’s better
he’s not here for this.It kills me to
say this – but you asked for the truth.The Lakers will definitely be
home for the post-season.”

“We are having a misunderstanding here.The truth we are interested in is about you.”

“Oh.So that whole Lakers rant was a big waste of time?”

“We’d like to know the truth about you.”

“The truth about me.Okay.

“As hard as a I try, I cannot seem to like olives.”

“No.We were looking
for a deeper truth.One that will tell us who you really are.”

“Sorry.I guess I’m
not getting this.‘A deeper truth.’Okay.

“I can eat bananas as fast as I possibly can, and still,
before I’m finished the bunch, at least one
of them will have gone bad.”

“Sir.We need you to
concentrate.The truth we are after is
not about olives or bananas.”

“It’s the same thing with pears.No matter how few I buy, one of them will be
mushy before I get to it.I can’t help
it.It’s true.”

“Listen to me.Beneath
all the layers, what is the most hidden secret about you?”

“Wow.This is like
therapy.Not that I’ve ever been to
therapy – and that’s the truth – but, you know, from shows I’ve seen, this
seems exactly what it feels like.I
mean, you’re really peeling the onion, here.‘The most hidden secret about me?’All right.

“I believe I could have gone further if my mother had been
more supportive of my career.”

“We don’t need to hear that.”

“You think I need
to hear that?My mother was always
worried about me, afraid I lacked the toughness to make it in this dog-eat-dog
world.Her worrying made me
worry, which, believe me, is not helpful when you’re up there on the high
wire.Come down from there.You’re going to break your neck!’You think the Wallendas say that to their children?That’s why they never fall.I didn’t fall either, but it was way harder
staying up there, lemme tell ya.”

“Enough!”

“It’s the truth!I
swear!She was never behind me!”

“You are a visitor in our country.We know you are hiding something.This is your last chance.Tell us the truth!”

(A HEAVY SIGH.FINALLY…)

“This is hard.It could get me in trouble.But I have always been a truth teller, and I
am not stopping now.Okay.

“I find you deeply attractive as a man.From the moment you walked in here, I felt a
spark.And I am neither apologetic nor
ashamed.

“Maybe it’s your air of total confidence, and the way that,
even in the bowels of this dank and desolate prison, you remain impeccable in your
grooming and your attire.Maybe it’s the
suppressed twinkle in your eye that says, under other circumstances, you’d be
fun to have a drink with.Maybe it’s the
heat generated by the inevitable consequence of the captor-interrogator
relationship.I don’t know.I am seriously confused.And that’s the truth.”

THE INTERROGATOR HAS TURNED CRIMSON RED.

“You are making me angry!”

“You asked for it.”

“I asked for the truth!
You tell me. Yes, or no. Are you a spy?”

“A spy?I make shell
casings for the iPhone.You know, this ‘interrogation’ is pissing me
off.We’re turning the tables here.You tell me
the truth.”

“About what?”

(GENTLY) “When this unpleasantness is over, would you have
any interest in seeing me socially?”